Sickness
by Torahamutaro-chan
Summary: The Sickness finally consumes her.


1/4/11

Hey everyone. After years of being a JTHM/Squee/I Feel Sick fan, I decided it was about time I wrote a story of my own instead of reading others' and not being fully satisfied. So here it is. Enjoy.

Disclamier: JTHM and I Feel Sick are the creations and property of Jhonen Vasquez.

XxXxX

Sickness.

It coils through and around her mind like a black snake. Lies, truth, deception, pain, anguish, agony. Fear. The darkness felt as though it were creeping into her chest, through her lungs. Why did emotions make it hard to breathe? They were so useless. She didn't understand why she had to feel like a normal human.

**Humans are weak.**

'_They are_.'

**They are useless.**

'_Very._'

**They deserve death.**

'…'

**You should kill them.**

'_Why?_'

**Because it's fun.**

'_It's messy._'

**It is. A beautiful crimson mess.**

'…'

**You don't like humans.**

'_I am human._'

**So was he.**

'_Don't bring him up._'

**Why?**

'_Just don't._'

**A soft spot, eh?**

'_Shut up._'

**He tried to kill you.**

'_Shut up!_'

**You loved him.**

'_SHUT THE FUCK UP!_**'**

Silence.

There was no one there, just herself. The voice was in her head, but her heart still ached in remembrance of that night. The night of the incident, the night she became infected. It was all that fucker's fault. He drove her to this, to insanity. Countless nights of lying awake, grasping a carving knife in her fist, eyes wide open and filled with paranoia. She couldn't leave the house for weeks afterward.

Then it came. Sickness. Mental illness in the form of a demented painting that she herself had created. How could her mind become so twisted and sick? She didn't understand it at all. Paranoia and agoraphobia didn't turn into insanity, did they?

She sighed and rolled over to stare at the wall. She wondered if this was how he felt all the time. If so, perhaps his crazy attempt at her life made sense. After all, she felt like using her own knife to carve into others' flesh at the moment. Was it okay, though? Normally murder was bad, but her mind was urging her to do it.

'_Maybe…_'

She woke up the next evening with a pounding headache. The voice was screaming at her to kill and it wouldn't stop.

'_Maybe I should go back to sleep_,' she thought, turning over and snuggling back into the covers. She fought and fought the pain and had almost won when she heard a knock.

She groaned, pulling the blanket over her head in an attempt to ignore the sound, but whoever was on the other side of her apartment door was persistent. Finally, after five minutes of failed ignorance, she removed herself from bed and made her way to greet the unwanted guest.

"Whaddayou want?" she asked sleepily.

Standing in front of her was a man in a suit. He had black hair, bright brown eyes and a smile that could rival a Ken doll's. He was holding a bible.

**Kill.**

"Hello, my name is Fred. I've seen you around the neighborhood a few times. I'm here to spread the word of God."

She glared at Fred and said, "Not interested," before moving to close the door.

**Kill.**

Fred stuck his foot in the doorway to stop it and then weaseled his way inside. "But you look like someone who could really use some help."

Her eye twitched. "Excuse me?"

"You look like you need Jesus in your life."

**Kill.**

"Get out," she said, her eyes threatening him. She pushed him back towards the door.

"You'll burn in Hell if you don't conform to the Lord's will," he said, his huge smile never falling from his stupid face. "God hates Satan worshippers."

**KILL!**

'_That's it!_' she screamed at herself and grabbed the book from his hands. She then began bludgeoning him with it; hitting over and over again until she heard a crack and Fred slumped lifelessly to the floor.

She panted and stared at the body with wide, crazed eyes, dropping the book and falling to her knees. "Wha-.. What..." she asked, shaking uncontrollably. "What have I done?"

**Well.** The voice replied.

She wrapped her arms around herself to stop the shaking, but it did nothing to stop the unraveling of her mind. She had killed someone, taken a life. Was this okay?

**It's great! **the voice laughed. **You really knocked 'im dead!**

Under normal circumstances she would have sneered at the bad joke, but as it was she could only stare at the blood gushing from her victim's head. Why had she killed him? Sure he was annoying, but she met lots of annoying people. Never before had she hurt anyone, not like this.

"What did I do?" she asked no one.

**You killed. About damn time, too. I was starting to get bored.**

"Shut up…" she mumbled.

**What was that?**

She didn't answer, instead running from the apartment, down the stairs and out of the building. It was raining and she had no idea where she was going, but she kept going. Running from herself. When she finally stopped, she looked up.

777

She banged her fist on the door for a good solid minute until someone inside screamed at her to "shut the fuck up." But when the door was opened, the person inside went from angry to shocked.

"Devi?"

XxXxX

And that is chapter one. Review if you care to.


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